


Domestic Bliss

by seki



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Teacher AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 12:38:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13717845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seki/pseuds/seki
Summary: Noctis's final year of High School, and it just so happens the newest teacher is both young and attractive. Noctis might just be doomed.





	Domestic Bliss

The first day back of the last year of school is _weird_. Everyone says the same things: don't the little firsties look like babies? Can you believe we only have one year -- no, ten months -- left in this place? Did you get taller? Where have you applied to go to university?

Noctis quietly raises an eyebrow whenever anyone asks him that question, and waits for them to realise: yeah, no, he's over-scheduled to hell and back and he's not even out of high school yet. It was bad enough last year, missing lessons left and right, and this year's going to be harder still. University isn't possible.

Still, he's determined to make a success of this last year of education. He's not dumb, and he wants to be able to prove that with good grades. He's spoken to the Citadel, and been assured there's some agreement with the school. They'll get him taught everything even when he has to miss classes. Somehow.

A tutor, probably, he thinks. Someone who'll liaise with the school to find out what he's missing, hopefully, rather that Noctis having to keep track of that himself.

His whole year obediently file into their form rooms to register attendance and pick up their new timetables, and then into the school's main hall for the day's assembly and announcements. It's nice, familiar; they sing one of the Paeans to the Hexatheon and then they listen as the headmaster welcomes them all back to the school. Noctis wonders, after a few droning minutes, if he can catch a quick catnap, but then the headmaster stops, clears his throat and shuffles his papers and Noctis forces himself back to attentiveness.

Announcements; dates for the school play and auditions to be held, etc, school orchestra yadda yadda, tryouts for the school sports teams, lots of things Noctis is dimly aware his classmates care about a great deal more than he does. One of the sports teachers got married over the summer, there's undried fresh paint in some of the corridors so be warned, and then:

"Finally, Mrs Aster has decided to take early retirement. I know we'll all wish her the very best, and your form teachers will have cards for you to sign your goodbyes in if you wish. I'll certainly miss her homemade pizzas," the headmaster says, smiling. "We will be welcoming a new domestic science teacher, a Mr Scientia, who'll be taking over lessons starting today."

Noctis, like everyone else, cranes his head to try and pick out the new teacher from the throng at the side; there's a little susurrus of reaction but Noctis can't see wherever this Mr Scientia is sitting. He's a bit gutted, if he's honest. Mrs Aster was great. She liked Noctis, and he liked her classes, and so Noctis had happily signed up for domestic science as his extra-credit elective this year. Now he'll have to cook and sew and who knows if this new teacher will be as nice?

"Now then, you've all got your timetables. Off you go, let's get into the rhythm of this year as soon as we can." The headmaster gestures, and the teacher at the back turns on the rippling piano music that always signals the dutiful procession out of the assembly hall. Noctis still can't see this new teacher, and well, no big deal. He'll see soon enough.

In the meantime, he has Ancient Lucian History to get to.

\--

The new teacher isn't there when Noctis gets to the domestic science suite, but it's cookery today so they all file in obediently when the assistant tells them to. Noctis snags one of the counters at the front, sharing with Prompto.

And then the new teacher strides in, and the world goes slow-motion and soft-focus and Noctis could swear he can hear songbirds.

"Dude," Prompto says, nudging him. "Close your mouth."

Mr Scientia is _gorgeous_. Tall, handsome, slim, quite young, bespectacled, dressed in a _very_ smart suit and shiny shoes. Noctis is already trying to tell himself to stop staring, and then the man opens his mouth and says, "good morning, class. I'm Mr Scientia, and I'm your new domestic science teacher," and his accent sounds like it was carved out of marble.

Well, Noctis thinks. I knew I was gay. And now I'm gayer than ever. Thanks, Mrs Aster, for leaving and allowing this _amazing_ piece of eye candy into my life.

"Today we'll start with something easy," Mr Scientia says, and he leans back so he's resting his butt on the edge of the teaching desk. Noctis briefly envies it. "A choice. We'll vote. Savoury or sweet? Hands up for savoury… and for sweet. Sweet it is. Alright then. I'll just bring up a recipe on the viewscreen."

"Recipeh," Prompto mutters, sounding amused, next to Noctis, and Noctis has to admit that is _exactly_ how Mr Scientia said it and yet it sounded… cute.

The recipe on the viewscreen is pretty basic-looking. Butter, sugar, flour. Pre-heat the oven.

Mr Scientia gestures vaguely to the store cupboard near the window. "Add spices or whatever as you choose. Decorate them if you have time and would like to. You should end up with enough cookies for us all to share, and we can vote on a winner at the end." He grins, then, a flash of white teeth that sends a little shudder up Noctis's spine. "There'll be a prize. Try to impress me."

In somewhat of a daze, Noctis follows Prompto over to the cupboard. He stares blankly at the overwhelming array of options. Spices. Chocolate. Poppy seeds. Lavender. Citrus fruits. Dried fruit. Vanilla extract.

Other people are grabbing things, measuring out little cupfuls of raisins, handfuls of chocolate chips. Noctis has no idea what Mr Scientia would even like, how is he supposed to _impress_ him?

Prompto plucks out one of the little shakers of poppy seeds and stuffs them into Noctis's hand. "Dude. You look lost. Make the ones we made on my birthday, okay? They were good."

"Right." Noctis reaches out, grabs a lemon. "Thanks."

It takes about five minutes before Noctis wonders if he should just quit trying, today. Firstly, he knocks his bowl of grated lemon zest onto the floor and has to get another lemon. Then he forgets to sift the flour as he adds it to the sugar and butter, like an idiot. Then once he's managed to get the dough acceptably smooth with the poppyseeds added, he realises he forgot to pre-heat his oven.

"It's okay, dude," Prompto says, cheerfully, when Noctis groans out his dismay. "We'll share an oven. Just let me shuffle the shelves around."

Mr Scientia comes over, for the third time that lesson. "Noctis, is everything okay?"

"Fine," Prompto says, quickly. "Just doubling-up on the oven, no need to waste energy, right?"

"I… see. Keep a watchful eye on them, then, they might need a little longer than on the recipe."

"Roger that."

Noctis, meanwhile, stares down at his cookies. He's okay at baking and this should be a cinch. But today he's just… his hands are shaking, and he's hyper aware of Mr Scientia's every movement, every murmured comment made to Noctis's classmates, and it's so distracting.

"In they go," Prompto says, grabbing the tray from Noctis.

Thank _god_ for Prompto, Noctis thinks gratefully, and quietly follows his lead in wiping down the counters, cleaning the mixing bowls, and generally just tidying everything away.

The timers start beeping, and people begin to pull out their cookies. There's a lot of flapping of tea-towels at the trays, and some people are doing fancy-looking decorations to put on top.

"Firstly," Mr Scientia says, going back up to the front of the class again, "you should all know that if you've produced cookies, then you have won -- your prize is your cookies."

There's a murmur of response, then one of the boys near the back says, "is that the _only_ prize, sir?"

"No, the class favourite will _also_ get another prize." Mr Scientia reaches out sideways, taps a box on the table. "They get a box of _my_ cookies, which I'm assured are excellent."

Prompto, next to Noctis, is humming as he dips his cookies halfway in melted white chocolate. It looks and smells amazing. Noctis's cookies are… well. They're speckled with black, and they'll probably taste good. But they're not _impressive._ He sighs, and grabs the icing sugar, and sifts a little layer of that on top, to show that he's _trying_ at least.

He looks, critically, at the result. It makes them look like they're salt-and-peppery. It's not that appetising. Oh well.

Mr Scientia calls them all forward and talks a little to them about basic kitchen hygiene -- then polls them for dishes _they_ think they should learn, which is interesting -- and then lets them go collect their now-cooled cookies.

They try half of a single cookie from everyone's offerings. Noctis's aren't awful -- tasty, even if they look a bit grubby -- but compared to some of the others they're just _boring_. Prompto's get a lot of approval, as do the lavender ones with the purple swirl of icing on top, but the ones _everyone_ loves are the ones to which a girl added chunks of a caramel and nougat bar, topped in milk chocolate. It helps that the girl herself is popular, one of those quiet sweet girls that doesn't offend anyone and tends to be _nice_.

Mr Scientia solemnly presents the girl -- Carilla -- with the box, and when she opens it there are these thin neatly-shaped cookies, striped in pearly pink sugar.

"They're rose-flavoured," Mr Scientia says. "Eat them within the next day."

Carilla nods, and then looks around. "Can I share them out here?"

"Certainly."

The cookie Noctis takes melts on his tongue in a burst of sweet fragrance, and they all make grateful noises at Mr Scientia, who promises to show them how it's done 'towards the end of the year'.

Noctis leaves the classroom, glancing back over his shoulder at their new teacher. Damn. He's beautiful, graceful, _and_ he can bake god-like cookies. 

He supposes he could have worse crush objects.

\--

It's approximately three days before Mr Scientia is unofficially referred to as Mr Recipeh by most of the school.

"Mr Heartbreaker, more like," Prompto snorts, on hearing this nickname. "You, most of the girls, half the teachers… it's amazing he's not followed by a trail of drool."

"Dude."

"And I mean, I get it, he's got that foreign sophisticate stuff going on. And he's smart."

Noctis leans in. "It's not that. He's just… hot, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. You gonna survive sewing today?"

"I have _no_ idea."

It turns out the answer is 'only just'. Noctis is so fumble-fingered when it comes to cutting out material that Mr Scientia actually takes the scissors away from him and asks him, all concerned, if he's alright. Noctis mumbles out an apology, and Mr Scientia tells him that he can be excused if he's not feeling well.

Another apology makes Mr Scientia frown, and lift a hand to Noctis's forehead as if checking his temperature.

Which probably soars, since it makes Noctis blush to his toes.

Prompto escorts Noctis to the nurse's room, although as soon as they're out of earshot he gently says, "Running a fever?"

"I guess."

"I think it's more like you're just hot for teacher."

Noctis groans. "It's so dumb. I can't think around him. It's like my hormones choke my brainstem or something."

"You're gonna have to get over it. I mean, we've got a whole year of this ahead, dude."

"Hopefully I'll just, I dunno, get used to him."

"Famous last words."

\--

The tutor has been arranged, Noctis is told, and will be arriving that evening for a quick introduction session. Noctis is to bring his books and folders to the room allocated for tutorial sessions, but his tutor is -- apparently -- fairly up to speed on Noctis's schooling and has had discussions with each of Noctis's teachers about his needs for this year.

Even so, even knowing how _ridiculous_ his life is sometimes, Noctis is still startled to turn up to the tutorial room to find Mr Scientia sitting at the big table. "I… uh. Hello?"

"Noctis. Sit down."

"You're my tutor?"

Mr Scientia nods. "I am."

"But… hang on. I don't need -- well, okay, maybe I do need domestic science tutoring as well, but…"

"I'm actually qualified to teach all the subjects you're currently studying." Mr Scientia gestures to the chair opposite him. "Your school was kind enough to find me a post, so I can liaise with your other teachers regularly."

Noctis obediently plants his books and folders on the table and sits. "You're trained to teach _all_ my classes?"

"I am. If I weren't, the Citadel would not have hired me." Mr Scientia reaches out, pulls the top folder off the pile. "I'm assured you're an excellent student in general. I am only employed because your other duties sometimes mean you have to miss school. Correct?"

"That's what they told me." 

"I will be here for two sessions a week at minimum; failing a need to help in any particular subject, I'll help you go over examination and revision techniques." Mr Scientia opens the folder, apparently at random, traces a finger down the timeline Noctis drew on one page, then the little cheat-sheet of dates and rulers opposite it. He looks up, and smiles a proper, delighted smile that makes Noctis's heart skip a beat or two. "Honestly, until you start missing classes, I rather suspect I'll be making up work for myself, since you seem well able to manage without my help."

Two _private_ lessons with Mr Scientia every week. Noctis isn't sure if it's going to be heaven or hell.

"In the meantime, the Citadel has been good enough to draft me an estimated calendar of when you'll be unable to attend school. I'll send a copy to your school email address now; please add anything else you can think of."

At this rate, Mr Scientia will know Noctis's schedule better than Noctis does. "Okay. You know I've got a thing this month, then? In Lestallum?"

"Yes. I'll be accompanying you."

Noctis stares, confused. "But… but school, the classes--"

"They'll have a substitute. Your schooling is my priority. The Citadel has been very clear on that." Mr Scientia closes the folder. "And I'm rather looking forward to the trip. I've never been to Lestallum before."

Mr Scientia is going to Lestallum with him. Mr Scientia, who wears suits with waistcoats and does his shirt buttons up to his chin. "You'll need to dress for the heat," Noctis finds himself saying. "The disc, and all."

"Oh? Very well." And Mr Scientia makes a little note on his phone. "Any other advice?"

"...no, not really."

"I know you'll be quite busy while we're there. I'll try to be efficient with my lessons, so I don't eat into all your leisure time."

Noctis stares at Mr Scientia. "It's not a holiday. There won't be leisure time."

"I mean, the evenings, I understand you'll be busy during the days."

"I'm gonna have to attend dinners and things, I think. That's what usually happens."

Mr Scientia, for the first time Noctis can remember, looks genuinely uncertain. "Hm. Suddenly I'm wondering if it's worth my going with you at all."

"I mean, the Citadel says you come with me, fine, so maybe they'll slot in some schoolwork time," Noctis says, with a shrug. "Ask them."

"I will. Thank you." Mr Scientia smiles, a grateful smile that makes Noctis's neck prickle, and gestures to the pile of books. "In the meantime, let's look through the rest of your folders, and make sure you stay at the very top of your classes."


End file.
